


Blank Card

by LexieCarver



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Addiction, Blood, F/M, Sexy but no smut, Violence, fluff-ish at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-28 05:48:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11411508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LexieCarver/pseuds/LexieCarver
Summary: Pairing: Crowley x ReaderWord Count: 3,235A/N: Darkish, addiction, blood, sexy but no smut, action, slight violence, pretty much it. This was written for @mrswhozeewhatsis Louden Swain Mini Bang for the song, “Blank Card.” Inspired by a role-play of mine. Enjoy.





	Blank Card

 (Aesthetic made by me)

 

[Also posted on my Tumblr-](http://roxy-davenport.tumblr.com/post/162639905211/blank-card)

 

Desire. What an ostentatious name for a club but it sufficed. It was the living embodiment of sin itself. Anything you desired could be found here, all for the cheap price of your soul or a few measly bills. It had an “Open Nightly” sign on the outside door. It was a place where the hopeless came to find solace, a haven for lost souls, for men or women who weren’t much more than blank cards waiting to filled with sentiments and emotions. It was a place where the broken became whole. And where you found exactly what you needed.

 

That night you stepped out of your jeep gracefully, wearing a long gold dress that hugged your figure. This would be your last night working here. There was no point in being here anymore. This was a social experiment for you as it was for many people and you weren’t finding what you needed so why stay any longer? You needed to go back to your boring, banal life and face the fact that you would never get out of your insignificant town, that you’d never transcend your destiny as a small town hunter, you would never rise above the chaos of your life. This was your last chance, your last hope for something better.

 

The place was guarded by a huge black dog and two large hooded men who looked like they’d been to hell and back and for all you knew, maybe they had. There was a red carpet outside that led to a den of iniquity covered in gold with vintage 1920’s speakeasy touches here and there; a password to enter, an old rotary phone in the back, vintage cocktails, and a gramophone that played jazz music. The back had booths covered with sheer black curtains and in the middle was a stage where women danced. You were one of those women, but you didn’t dance for the money or for the affections of the idiotic, pitiful excuses for humans that frequented this place. No, you danced for the chance to make the acquaintance of a powerful demon. In a place like this you had hoped to find one by now but you only found equally lost souls. That is until tonight when your life would change in more ways than you could ever know.

 

You weren’t sure what you were addicted to more, the glamour of the place you worked in (not including the customers), the possibility of feeding your hunger, or the chance to find something better, a way out of a life you were bored with. You were searching in the dark recesses of humanity for a glimmer of excitement and a life full of adventure.

 

Once, many moons ago, you were a hunter. You started by avenging your parents’ deaths. In the beginning you were moralistic, righting wrongs. Yes, how arrogant. I know. And then you began to crave the violence and the adrenaline rush you got from a good fight. The violence became an outlet for your rage and pain, at suddenly being alone at an early age. You grew up alone, fighting the good fight but never getting close to others. A hunter never made connections, only short flings. You learned to guard your heart. You grew less angry overtime but with a blank space in your soul that never got filled with the love you should have received. You had no model for a happy successful relationship or for the love you secretly desired but found distasteful. You thought love was an illusion, the punch-line on a greeting card and nothing more. You grew colder, more isolated, and then on a hunt you tasted demon blood and that changed everything. You felt connected to the universe, more confident, powerful beyond human comprehension. Sounds and tastes were more intense. It became a drug you couldn’t quit. Nothing made you that happy. You tried to quit but withdrawal was horrible. From the first drop of demon blood, you knew there was never any chance of going back to the righteous hunter you once were. There are no AA meeting for demon blood addicts. You were on your own and you weren’t strong enough to resist.

 

You’ve been so long without the blood that your hand was shaking from need. The world was beginning to look dismal again and you felt a wave of depression come over you at the banality of life itself.

 

Every night you came here and no one was a demon; they were all just equally lost, hungry souls. Can you really go back to being a hunter and forget this club, forget your addiction? What if the addiction got someone hurt? What if you fed on a demon like a rabid vampire ignoring the victim you were supposed to be saving? Wouldn’t that be more dangerous than staying here, safe in the darkness to feed as you wish?

 

You kept your head steady, putting on a good show as you stepped out onto the stage to greet your adoring fans. You closed your eyes and pretended that the accolades and the claps were enough to keep you going but that’s never what you’ve been after.

  

Crowley was never one for clubs but this one always drew him in. He rather liked the blatant disregard for what was proper. Sins were displayed, deals made, entertainment sought out, all in the open, mind you. No back alley dealings. It was liberating and quite literally the devil’s playground. He came here to be among like-minded people, which he needed after the incident with the Winchesters. He now craved human blood thanks to them. He didn’t go here thinking he would get any assistance. That would be too good to be true and no one ever caught his eye. Everyone was too pedestrian for his liking. All the same, he grabbed his whiskey and focused on you as you walked onto the stage. He hadn’t seen you before. His eyes ran up and down your figure already entranced by you. Your face brought back memories. You looked like someone he knew a long time ago, someone very dear to him.

 

Your dress swayed with you as you glided across the stage dancing seductively, not for the men cheering but for you. You loved dancing. You never felt freer than when you danced. You become one with the song, getting lost in the words, letting them glide over your skin like a gentle caress. You moved your body sensually, arching your back and gliding your hand over your figure. Your hips swayed in time to the beat as your hand moved up your body and past your neck to tousle your hair.

 

Crowley was captivated by the way you moved. All the other dancers took off their clothes, the basest of dancing but you, you were a shining example of sensual dancing and how affecting one can be with their clothes on.

 

Your eyes were closed almost the entire time, preferring to dance unhindered by the audience. You felt a strong presence staring at you and you slowly opened your eyes locking eyes with an attractive older man in a gorgeous tailored business suit. He was drinking whiskey and giving you the most deliciously seductive look. You winked at him. He was rather different from the usual crowd. The lights on the stage turned red, bathing you in a rather ominous glow. You couldn’t be sure but his eyes seemed to flash red. Was it the lights? Or was he a demon?

 

Your dance changed from self-expression to one of seduction. The last minute was all for him. And judging by the lustful gaze he sent you, albeit inhibited by the various onlookers, you had done a wonderful job of letting him know you were interested.

 

 

You walked down from the stage gracefully as you turned to the attendant beside you, eyes still on your mystery man as you whispered into his ear, as is the policy. All interactions must be filtered through the staff. No one was allowed to approach another person of either sex without an introduction. If you didn’t come with a gentleman, and you wished to speak to the stranger or he to you, you must follow the rules to interact. Anyone who didn’t listen would be kicked out and barred from returning.

 

“Who is that man that’s making his affections quite clear?” you asked biting your lip in anticipation.

 

The attendant offered no explanation, diving right into a practiced question with an equally practiced smile. “Do you share those affections ma’am?”

 

A slow smile crept onto your face, “I very much do.”

 

You saw the attendant approach the man and watched, as the man smiled at you and held his glass up. The attendant waved you over.

 

“Crowley this is the lovely Y/N. If you should need anything further don’t hesitate to contact me. My name is Ethan. Thank you for choosing Desire to meet your needs.”

 

“Quite chatty isn’t he,” Crowley said, the second the man left.

 

“They’re big on rules here. He was only going by the guidebook.”

 

Crowley smirked at you as you slowly sat down beside him. “Ah, but life is more interesting when you bend the rules, isn’t it pet?”

 

“Indeed it is.” You smiled a genuine smile feeling happy conversing with him, a happiness you haven’t felt in years.

 

You turned to the bartender and said confidently, “I’ll have what he’s having.”

 

“Adventurous, are we?”

 

“Nothing beats an aged whiskey, old, bodied, delicate yet fiery and all the while comforting.”

 

“What an eloquent way to describe whiskey.”

 

You smirked at him before running your finger along the edge of your glass. “So what is that you do, Crowley?”

 

Crowley scoffed at the question. “No, no banal questions. That’s beneath you darling. Besides I rather like the game we’re playing and I don’t want to lose when I’ve just started.”

 

“I don’t frighten easy. I work here after all.”

 

“Bit unusual for a girl such as yourself to work here of all places, no?”

 

You slipped your hand into his open one and watched as he slowly took your hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss.

 

“Maybe I belong here. Maybe I have a darker side. You don’t look like the type to frequent this place either.”

 

“Looks can be deceiving.”

 

“Can’t they?”

 

You both raised your glasses to toast before slowly drinking the burning liquid.

 

“I’ve been wondering about something all night, and while I love our witty repartee, it’s been gnawing at me. May I ask you a bold question?”

 

“I dare say you’ve intrigued me. Go ahead, pet.”

 

You leaned in closer, close enough to see the weary look on his face, smell the slight sulfur smell coupled with the smell of a campfire and the intriguing smell of leather and whiskey surrounding him. You were quite sure of the answer but had to ask all the same.

 

You moved closer still so you could whisper seductively into his ear. “Are you a demon?” A rather simple question that took him by surprise.

 

He moved back studying your face to try to see what your angle was. You seemed curious and not in league with his many enemies. Still the confusion stayed on his face. How could you have guessed that? You were human after all. He squinted his eyes at you before turning back to his drink.

 

The moment of silent was worrying you so in an effort to save the evening, you placed your

hand on his elbow, which made him raise his eyebrows at you.

 

You tone turned needy, desperate even. “Please I- I’m looking for a demon.”

 

He didn’t push your hand away, rather enjoying the closeness. His voice took on the tone of a father chastising his daughter, “Silly girl why would you be looking for a demon. You know what….”

 

You cut Crowley off before he could even finish his sentence, growing more desperate by the minute. “I’m addicted to demon blood,” you confessed as you ran your hand over his suit feeling the contours of his lapel. You moved closer to him and without any further hesitation, he pulled you into this chest, his arms loosely wrapped around your lower back. You smiled up at him, welcoming the embrace, He breathed in your scent; the strong, vanilla, amber and flower scent of your perfume and the sweet lingering smell of your shampoo.

 

His voice was soft and low so that only you could hear his confession, “I am indeed a demon, my dear, who just happens to be addicted to human blood.” Everything about you was drawing Crowley in and now you said you were addicted to his blood? This was perfect, better than he could have hoped for. You both could feed your addictions safely. You could be the one.

 

“I’ve been coming here for a while now and I never found any demons much less any that would be okay with my addiction. I never knew demons could be addicted to human blood.”

 

He tensed at your words fearing a judgmental response coming next.

 

You noticed his body language and shook your head. “No judgment here. We’re both addicts here for a fix and I’d be happy to help you if you return the favor.”

 

You kept your touches gentle so as not to spook him. He smiled down at you with a smile you hadn’t seen before: a weary but happy smile. You locked eyes for a moment silently thinking the same thing; you were both so lucky to have found one another.

 

“Let’s get a booth in the back?” you suggested.

 

“Someone so delicate and good but so broken. What happened, pet, to make you like this?”

 

“I could ask you the same thing.”

 

“I’m dangerous. This is a dangerous game you can’t hope to win.” Crowley warned.

 

You smiled a wistful smile. “I’m not looking to win. I just need to feel alive.”

 

“I’m not any demon. I’m the King of Hell.”

 

A soft smile came over you as you looked at the King, “Well, aren’t I a lucky girl. You look so weary, so tired. Just come with me, my King, and I’ll take care of you. I mean you no harm. Let’s feed our addictions safely.” He touched your cheek softly almost reverently. He slowly snapped his fingers and took you both to an unoccupied velvet covered booth at the back of the club.

 

You and Crowley took a seat sitting as close to each other as possible. He leaned over you and closed the area off with the sheer black curtain. No one even looked your way. Privacy was key in this place, the most fundamental of all rules, and that especially held true when the King of Hell visited.

 

“Are you absolutely sure Y/N?” Crowley inquired, needing your confirmation.

 

“I’m sure,” you answered confidently.

 

With a flourish of his wrist and a rather loud snap, Crowley made two syringes appear in either hand.

 

In a matter of minutes the both of you were shooting the blood through your veins, a blissed out look on your faces. Crowley closed his eyes feeling a flurry of competing emotions wash over him. The emotions were so rich and intense they awakened dormant parts of his psyche. You in turn felt like you were floating above everything. The world around you disappeared, the club became blurry so you closed your eyes feeling a euphoria settle over your entire being. You felt invincible and truly happy.

 

Somewhere in the club there was a commotion; yelling, screaming, people running, chairs flying but you paid it no mind lost to the feelings. Crowley ignored it as well until he heard his name. Fear ripped him out of the happy haze of emotions as he grabbed you and carried you in his arms through the exit. An attendant bowed to you both and held the door open. Shots rang out and a knife was thrown that narrowly missed you both. The attendant stepped in front of the King taking the hit for him. You stared back in confusion as he carried you to safety. You saw seven black eyed demons staring back at you. Crowley snapped his fingers before the demons could approach. You heard Crowley whisper an apology to you but the words sounded foreign in your blissed out mind.

 

Crowley placed you carefully onto the floor of a discount store with a pharmacy attached. One of the few five and dimes still in business in a quaint town far away from the debauchery you just left. His arms were full of things he snapped into a cart. You almost laughed at the banality of it all.

 

Crowley was the first to speak. “I can see why you’re addicted. Where did you go, poppet?”

 

“Everything and nowhere,” was your rather cryptic response. He squinted his eyes at you and you giggled in response. “You know. I think I like you. Can you like someone at first sight?”

 

Crowley smiled. “I think I like you, too,” he held your hand on the line and you put you head on his shoulder.

 

“What did you get?” you asked curiously.

 

“Food, darling. You have to eat and hydrate. Not letting anything happen to you. You are more precious than you know.” You gave him a quizzical look. “You look like a woman I knew a long time ago. I felt a connection to you instantly. You drew me to you even before your bewitching dance. Unlike everyone else in my world, you see me as someone you could like. You’re the light at the end of my tunnel. I may be a monster but in your eyes I can be more.”

 

You smiled, “That was beautiful.”

 

You had only known him for a short time but he was excitement. He would fill up the blank card that was your soul with love, the very love you never thought you’d experience. You smiled at each other as you stepped up to the counter to pay. You were both ready to start a new life together.

 


End file.
